Slow
Posted In: #BlueFlame47 Written on March 23, 2020.
The journey toward 2020 brought the word “slow”. March has now trickled in and I’m still treating this word tenderly, inviting it into each day and, now, the decelerating days we find ourselves in.
In the near 90 days since “slow” became my savor, I have found some quotes that have ink-poured into my journal and upon index cards and memo boards.
“Slowing down is sometimes the best way to speed up.” Mike Vance
“Slow down and everything you are chasing will come around and catch you.” John De Paola
“Once she stopped rushing through life she was amazed how much more life she had time for.” Amy Rubin Flett
This last one, by Terry Tempest Williams, is my favorite though they each resonate and resound.
To slow down is to be taken into the soul of things.
Into the soul of things. The Hebrew word for soul is ‘nephesh’ and is the unity of our body, organs and breath. ‘Nephesh’ most simply means “life”. To slow down then is to be taken to the very life of things, the place where all is unified. Where we are one.
The Hebrew word for slow is ‘leat’ and has its origins in the root word ‘erekh’ which means “long”. This word is found in the phrase ‘erech ruach’ which means “a long breath.”
So there are a lot of language in and outs I could share here, but I don’t want to get bogged down; I just want to break open the beauty. For when “long” is used in scripture to describe God, it is an invitation to breathe like or truly to live like Him.
Slow is a bridge within our relationship with Him. It reminds us who we are of, whose breath brought our begin. It is an inhale that invites and an exhale that extends.
Between the Old and New Testaments is a slow and steady for us to sink into. A lingering link that on one end teaches us about the character of God and then crosses the chasm so we can live the cadence of His character.
Whenever Pappa “goes long” He creates a connection. A place for us to find balance and bounty. He buds and blooms a bridge so we can move slow, intentionally and unburdened to His abounding, astounding troves.
We then savor the sustenance of being His. Our satisfy sequences an inhale and exhale of our own. We breathe bridges, going long for those who have lost their breath and can’t find their way to wonder.
As I am savoring slow, I’ve noticed previous generation’s tracks in the dirt. I’ve seen the fork in the road where they chose bandwagon over beauty. This generation, well, our choice is to cease glorifying busy so we might bring a revolution of rest. Revolutionaries that we are.
For if we are racing to the next moment, we avoid what is happening in the one we are in. And what if the happening is His and our happiness within it reveals Him to hardened hearths and a planet awaiting plow? What if our slow softens those gasping for their next breath?
When all else is rushed or hurried, I’m choosing to live my days more slowly. Unhurried and unhindered. Because truly, I don’t want days to own me anymore, living me until no life remains. Every moment is owned by Him and is given to us to spend and spread. To meet and multiply. He’s the God of more than enough, but who will know Him that way we if we try to continuously beat the clock instead of tending time? We are moment melders, not minute masters. Moments are the place we become one with Him and make a way for each other. Let’s make them momentous.
